Be it Fate or Circumstance
by Average Creations
Summary: Her upbringing thus far had been... unusual. That was probably the most polite way to put it. She had always felt the pull, and when an equally unusual Kaneki came into the picture, Tsukiyama finally lets her venture off to answer its call. She wasn't mad for vengeance or power. Then again, maybe she was. Britain was calling, and be it fate or circumstance, she was going to answer.
1. Unknown Effects

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the horde of quickly multiplying plot bunnies.

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Lily was alone with Harry that night.

James had insisted on going out with his mates. He was so sick, her husband had shouted at her earlier that evening, of being cooped up with an increasingly irate pregnant witch and a colicky toddler. But that was not what she thought about as she threw herself in front of Voldemort's wand, and he cast the killing curse at her.

Her act of sacrificial magic was not her own though. In the moment she had thought only of dying in her son's place, so that he may live. She did not think of the magical child still developing in her steadily growing belly.

When the curse hit her the pain was unimaginable. She thought that this must be what it felt like to die, but as she lay prone and unable to respond on the floor she could see movement in the world around her and knew something was not as it should be. She had just been hit by an _Avada Kedavra_ from Voldemort himself. She shouldn't be able to feel pain or observe the Dark Lord stepping over her body towards the form of her now truly defenseless son.

For the second time in as many minutes the tip of Voldemort's wand glowed that horrendous shade of green. The words he spoke she could not hear. All she could do was watch in the reflection of her son eyes as the deadly bolt of magic collided with him.

As she acted as onlooker to a scene no mother should ever be forced to witness, she once again felt unimaginable pain course through her, centered deep within her lower abdomen. The pain was so great that, despite her overwhelming need to see her son with light still in his eyes for these last few moments, she was simply unable to keep from clenching her own in soul shattering pain.

The world that had gone dark when her eyes closed burst into endless white and she was unconscious.

She awoke to the screams of men and the frightened whimpers of children.

There was something in her eyes; perspiration, tears, she did not know. She felt drops of cold hitting her body and realized that where before there had been lights and walls and a roof, now there was just the orange glow of muggle street lamps on the low hanging, precipitous clouds overhead.

Her body felt cold and used; tired from a strain she could not remember enduring.

She heard shouts coming closer and tried once again to see the world around her. It was so dark, she wished she had her wand to cast a _lumos_ spell. But there was light, dim as it was, approaching, accompanied by a silhouette whose mess of hair could only belong to her husband.

She could hear others, see other dim specks of light behind him as he pulled himself up and over the rubble that had once been the southern wall of their son's second level bedroom. Harry would be closer to him, easier to see since he was still in his crib.

Harry, oh gods Harry!

Her eyes searched desperately for the body of her son. Yes, it was still in the crib. Facing her. Eyes open. Face covered in blood from some head wound sustained in whatever aftermath she had missed.

Why, why did the world around her look like this?

But no, she was looking at Harry, at his eyes, green and shimmering with tears, mixing with the blood still running down his precious face.

Tears!

Her baby was crying, albeit as silently as a child could. Never had she been so glad to see pain and tears in her baby boy's face. He was alive!

But… but he had been hit by the killing curse. And so had she!

Where was Voldemort? There was so much destruction, something had happened, but she could not imagine him leaving without his objective of murdering her son fulfilled.

She was right. James saw Harry before her. He might not even realize she was in the room.

As more of her senses came back to her, she could feel the pain. Pain in her legs, pain in her abdomen, in her head, and her back, and her heart. There was pain emanating from everywhere, so she chose to refuse any acknowledge of it, focusing instead on the reunion of her husband with his son.

James face, contorted with pain and terror at what he might see, lit up at the sight of his whimpering, blood covered, but very much alive, son. He ran over, tripping and stumbling over the odd chucks of debris in his way, until he had his child clutched tightly to him. Arms wrapped around the boy so that he would know he was within his father's protection once more.

Shuffling and grunts behind James gave way to Peter, being pushed by the arse, up and over the rubble by Remus, who was scrambling up behind him. There was some relief when they saw Harry alive in James' arms, but it was short lived as Peter (who had always had a quite a thing for Lily) asked where she might be.

She could see them, and was trying to make noise or move enough to catch their attention, but she was so tired, so weak. Remus, she knew, could probably smell her. She had never been more thankful for his condition than she was when his eyes lit up at her scent.

"She's in here I think, somewhere. There is blood, lots of it, but it's fresh. We have to search quickly." he said, eyes golden as he let the wolf out in a rare moment of usefulness.

They were coming closer now, they would find her. She felt herself relax for the first time as she saw James hand Harry off to Peter and make his way towards where she lay, partially buried underneath layers of beams, plaster, and thatching.

As she relaxed though, she was reminded of how wrong everything felt right now. She was so exhausted, so sore, so ...empty feeling. She felt melancholy overtake her. She had somehow survived a killing curse. So had Harry. But how? He seemed to be in the same state that she was, so perhaps they were just feeling the never before felt side effects of being hit with an _Avada Kedavra_ and not dying by it.

Her boys found her. Dragged her out from beneath the wreckage that had once been a child's bedroom. She was covered in blood, her head, her whole lower half and all up her back as though she had been laying in a pool of it for some time.

So much blood.

The group rushed off to St. Mungo's as quickly as they could, both Harry and Lily having lost such large amounts of blood that they were closer to death than anyone had yet realized. They would both spend weeks recovering in a private care ward from the unknown after effects of ineffective killing curses.

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A/N: This is my first go at fanfiction. This chapter was written several months ago, and is being posted on a whim, as a reward for finishing some irl work related stuff. So before anyone reviews (lol, like that will happen) and complains about quality, I will admit that this has been edited only to the extent that it is somewhat formatted, and nothing more. This chapter, and the next few, are meant to give you brief glimpses and some essential information for the world we will start to see once the story really begins. Once the story really gets going, and I am more certain of how things will pay out, I will come back and edit these first few chapters accordingly.

This is a HP/Tokyo Ghoul Xover. Harry is the BWL, but that is not the whole picture. I love fem-Harry stories and originally set out creating this as one, but that quickly changed when I started writing. So our main character will be fem-Harry(ish), but considering original Harry is still very much alive and in character, she is not taking his place in that regard.

I hope you enjoy this and future chapters, and obviously I would be thrilled to get some reviews. No flames yet, please. Give me a few chapters head start at least.


	2. Mate's Night Mayhem

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm sure we've all got better things to worry about than whether or not I'm trying to pull of the literary heist of the century...**

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Sirius had been unable to stay at Mate's Night at the Three Broomsticks for very long. He had received an urgent summons from Gringotts, about thirty minutes into their drinks. Not quite sure what it could be, the boys had insisted he go attend to it, as his partial absence would just give them all an excuse to get James out of the house again. Sirius had been missing these nights with his best mate desperately, and would have done whatever he could to get James out of the situation he was in.

He just didn't know how.

The Gringotts summons had been in regards to his family. His mother had died. While he wasn't upset in the least about it, he was curious as to why he was being informed as though he were part of the family.

As it turned out, Sirius was only supposed to be told if there was no one else around to take care of family matters; it seemed he was not as entirely disowned as he had always suspected. The Blacks may have hated him, but in lieu of outside options, having a shitty Black head up family matters was preferable to having none at all apparently.

Narcissa and her husband had been on a "trip" to the continent since the birth of their son, so for all intents and purposes they were out of reach. Andi was looked down upon even more than he was because of her marriage and the subsequent birth of half-blood Dora. And Bella? Well apparently she, her husband, brother-in-law, and Bardy Crouch Jr. had been picked up for the torture of Alice and Augusta Longbottom earlier that very evening. The thought chilled him to the bone.

The Longbottom's had been under the same protections as James and his family. That meant that someone must have killed Leonidas Longbottom, Frank's father, to bring down the manor's defenses. As the Potter's secret keeper, the fact that he was here to hear about this horrible news was good for them, because it meant that he was alive.

It meant that they were safe.

But he would have to watch his back even more closely from now on.

Sirius took care of the paperwork that the Black family's Accounts Manager had been worried about and then left the otherwise empty bank. Looking at his muggle time piece , a gift from Lily, he saw that it was already the first of the month, and past time that the boys would be done at the pub. He figured though, since he had just been reinstated into his namesake, and as acting head no less, that there was some excuse to risk the wrath of a very pregnant witch in order to celebrate with his best mate.

With that thought in mind, he stopped by the Leaky, bribing Tom with an excessive amount of gold, for the 17 year old brandy he knew the barkeep had a few extra bottles of in the back. Liquor suitably in hand, he enlarged the motorbike he had stashed in his pocket and set off into the misty London night.

Sirius was used to not being able to see the Potter's cottage from the air. As the secret keeper, he was the only one who could see it without outside aid, and the only one knew where it was without being told, but he still had to be in the vicinity to get there. Touching down on the cobblestones near the edge of the hamlet of Godric's Hollow, he made his way to the extra picket fence gate that he knew indicated the entrance to the Potter's protective wards. He looked down at the gate as he opened it, as it always seems to stick a little on the uneven ground. His head whipped up moments later when, after stepping across the ward threshold, the smell of burning heat and smoke met his nostrils.

The bones of an old cottage lay in ruins before him. Inside himself rage a paradox of searing icy sensations. Agony and fear and everything in between. Falling to his knees, he watched the contents of his stomach mix with the mud and ash of the front garden without resistance.

 _How could this have happened?_ He asked himself as he stared down at his own sick, in denial of the scene laid out before him.

He was still alive. No one could break through the Fidelius Charm, that's why they had used it. The people he told could not tell others. Who had he told? Where had he slipped up? How? How? How? How? Remus, Peter, Dumbledore ….. Marlene….Frank and Alice… but they had also been attacked tonight, hadn't they?

That couldn't be a coincidence, which meant that there must have been some amount of foresight on the Dark Lord's end. How long had they had this information? If the situation was serious enough that Bella would risk being arrested in the act (which had indeed happened) that could only mean that the Dark Lord was involved personally… he had come here. But again, HOW?

His canine sense of hearing perked up, breaking him out of his morbid brainstorming. It wasn't quite a whimper, almost as if that would take more effort than could be mustered. It was such a quiet sound, a distressed stoppage of breath that caused tiny vocal cords to tense and release automatically. So quiet. So very quiet in an eerily quiet scene of destruction and chaos.

He stepped softly into the cottage, searching around the first floor wherever he could reach. Nothing. No blood, no bodies… that had to be a good thing, right? Still, he could hear that faint struggle for life, somewhere in the ruinous hellscape surrounding him. It must be upstairs. He could see from the ceiling above him that the second floor was not in a state to hold much more the whole family was up there, and he hoped to Merlin and every other entity, ancient and mundane, that he could think of, that they weren't, then they would be even worse off should the floor beneath them collapse.

He quickly summoned one of the extra brooms James kept in the shed out back and flew carefully up to the second floor. He hovered, sifting through the wreckage as delicately as his could. Every minute that passed without finding anything filled him with both hope and dread. Where was James?

Finally, he made his way over to Harry's nursery. He remembered the last time he stopped by Lily was in the process of starting to convert it back to an infant nursery for baby number 2. He could see the charred remains of baby books, tiny shoes, and even the absurdly giant, black stuffed dog that he had given Harry for his first birthday.

And blood. He could see so much blood. And the smell… He gave in to the horrified shudder that ran its way through his body. There was blood everywhere but still, no bodies.

The sound was coming from inside this room though, of that he was certain. Was it Harry? It had to be. His godson must still be alive after all of this, he just needed to find him. He floated over Harry's crib. Blood soaked the sheets and mattress, but there was no Harry.

No matter where he looked, no Harry.

No anybody.

He was going crazy.

Finally, he noticed a portion of the room where the roof had already collapsed. It was across the room from where the front wall had been blown out, which defiantly drew the eye away from smaller areas of destruction. There was blood over here too. And as he inched the broom forward the sound was actually becoming audible to his human sense of hearing as well.

This must be it. Someone, Harry, was in this rubble. Slowly, piece by piece, he started levitating the bits of house up and out of the way. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his beloved godson by allowing debris to further crush him if it collapsed. Finally after what seemed like forever, he had cleared the necessary debris away, and what he saw shocked him more than he could describe.

There on the floor, still attached to the placenta lying next to it, was a small, pale blue child gasping for breathe.

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A/N: Hey there. Thanks to everybody who took a look at the chapter. I appreciate the Favs and Follows as well. And a special thanks to **Halariel** and **random-lemon** for leaving reviews. I, of course, am a glutton for such things.

This is another short chapter leading up to the main action in the story. It goes along with what will be coming in chapter 3. Once again, it has only been lightly edited for formatting purposes, so it is very far from perfect. Questions and comments are appreciated. Thanks again, everybody.


	3. Break Your Heart Right Back

_Disclaimer: Not mine. There's no need to go and rub it in._

 _This is being posted July 12th, 2017_

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The next thing he remembers is racing down the motorway. The rain hitting him hard against the bare skin of his arms and neck, chilling him violently. His leather jacket was bundled as tightly as he dared around the pup and charmed to press itself against his chest to transfer some of his body to her.

A sign with an H and an arrow caught his attention, and he maneuvered his motorbike expertly to make the corner while losing as little speed as possible.

It would be quicker to bring her to a local hospital than to fly her to St. Mungo's, which was especially important given her deteriorating condition and the current wrath of the elements. But if he was going local, there would be no place to land the motorbike without the notice of the muggles. And so he had to drive. He cursed the fact that infants didn't hold up well during apparition, but of course that was not the pup's fault.

He may not have been her godfather, like he was to her brother, but he had known immediately that he would never need a bond like that to convince him to do everything in his power to keep this little girl safe. She was still his pup.

Crying out in relief as the facade of the nearest hospital came into view, he spurred himself on quicker. Sirius came to a screeching halt, nearly going right through the glass doors, before he was able to throw himself off the bike and force his way inside.

Emergency staff were on him almost immediately, as he cancelled his charm and tried in vain to articulate what he knew about the tiny babe's condition. In fact, he didn't even get the chance to have another look at her before she was being whisked away, and he was being shuffled into an alcove near the door to answer some questions for her medical records.

Sirius dropped into the seat before it was offered and promptly began bouncing his legs frantically, face clutched in his hands.

"I'm going to need some general information for your daughter's file before we get into the heavier stuff alright?" the medical file-y woman said calmly, obviously used to people in states of shock and agitation. "Today is the first. Was your daughter born just now, or sometime yesterday?"

"I… I don't know. I just found her like that, I don't know what happened. Oh Merlin…" Sirius could feel himself starting to hyperventilate. He needed to calm down right this second. He was a trained Auror, he should be able to think his way through any situation, even one as mind-numbingly upsetting to him as this. "It was early when I got there. I… I guess… if I had to guess, she was probably born before midnight. There was so much blood…"

"And her mother?" the woman asked, seeming to grow more concerned about what she was hearing. Sirius could only shake his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, sir. Have you been able to contact the authorities yet?"

They would never find it anyways, he thought to himself. "There was nobody there when I arrived. I couldn't find Lily or Harry. I didn't see any sign of James. ArghhhHHH." he found himself screaming through gritted teeth. What the hell was going on with this hellish night? The loss of his mother he could get over, they had all been stinging after the sudden absence of Regulus. But James and his family? No, no that was a lash upon his person that he would not simply allow.

If they had been dead, he would have found their bodies, correct? No bodies meant that they had either been kidnapped or recovered in some capacity. Maybe they were recovering, maybe they were in the morgue. Either way, two out of three options would lead him to St. Mungo's. That's where he would go.

Pushing himself out of the chair he turned to leave, a man on a mission.

"Wait! Where are you going sir, I still need quite a lot of information from you." the nurse called to him. He kept walking. "At least give me a name for her charts. It'll make things easier when you come back."

That thought gave him pause. Yes, there was a reason he was here. His little… "Tiger-Lily" he started with a chuckle, giving his favorite nickname for the little sprite. But that wasn't right.

"Oh, no. Sorry. Cassia." he tried again, giving the name he'd picked out when he'd learned they were having a girl. But that wasn't right either, was it. Lily had hated it, for starters; James had said that being a second cousin to the Black's wasn't close enough to warrant the enforcement of their unspoken naming rules. They hadn't told him what they had picked out, and maybe they hadn't picked anything out yet. After all she wasn't set to arrive for several weeks. That would have to do for now. This was only a muggle hospital anyways, so it's not as though any of this would stick by the time he had sorted everything out.

"Surname!" The woman shouted as he fled through the door.

"Potter."

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Five minutes later found him crashing through the lobby of St. Mungo's, steely gaze fixed on the attractive blonde receptionist behind the glass. He's bedded her once or twice not long after Harry was born. Now was not the time to walk down memory lane however.

Stopping breathlessly in front of the glass, he stared down into startled blue eyes. He must look a mess if he was getting such stares, and he supposed he did, running in soaking in no but a white t-shirt and denims, hair wreaked from wind, rain, and frenzied fingers. He could almost feel himself growing grays.

"A family … I'm looking for…" he tried to formulate the words, but he was a man of action in these situations. He would much rather be running and sticking his head in every room. At least then he could hold on to hope for a little longer. "A woman, red hair. With a toddler. And James. I'm looking for the Potters."

He watched in a daze as her jaw tensed, but honestly didn't pay her any mind beyond the words coming out of her mouth.

"I'll send for someone to escort you to where they've been placed. Please sit down, sir."

The room was buzzing. The room was empty. Okay, so maybe it was his mind that was buzzing. He stumbled backwards, knocking into a chair and collapsing backwards over its wooden arm. He didn't know if he was nauseous or relieved. Maybe it was the buzzing in his head that kept him from being able to complete dismantle her words and understand their meaning. Maybe he was just in denial.

The connotation of the phrase "where they've been placed," did not do anything for his nerves. It sounded like something that was said when speaking about something being deemed less than human… pets...sickly, old people...orphaned children...the dead…

No. That couldn't be it, Sirius tried to reason with himself. But his mind had already gone there and his magic was reacting, not far behind. First he had pounded his fist into the wall above the chair back. The next time he brought it back, it was followed by the heavy thump of his chair. Again he hit, and this time the chair across from him collided with the wall above him. He eyes were clenched shut though, his sense numb to the world around him as he worked within himself to convince himself, mind and body, that what the woman had said was in a death sentence to his best mate, his mate's wife, and his godson.

For many long moments the furniture in the room swelled and crashed into walls, like waves lapping at stone. And then security should up, and on the hem of their robes on Albus Dumbledore and the mediwizard that had come with him.

Seeing the state of the room, and it lone occupant. Dumbledore sent the mediwizard away. The fewer people around to circumvent his will, however unintentionally, the better.

Sirius was startled out of his numb state by the sound of crashing, and the sight of a group of wizards moving decisively toward him through a sea of battered waiting room furniture. He cast an accusatory glare towards the blonde receptionist as he lept from his seat and drew his wand.

"Come quietly, Sirius." It was Dumbledore speaking, standing in the shadows cast upon the hallway at the far side of the room. Away from where the patients were housed. Sirius felt himself sag. So that's it they really were gone. There was no other explanation. He would have surely seen the others by now if it were not the case… Remus, Peter. Instead it was just Dumbledore. Only Dumbledore.

He went to the man who had, for so long, acted as a mentor to him. Acted nearly as much the part of surrogate father as the late Charlus Potter. But now the look on the man's face was stormy, which wasn't boding well for Sirius and his nerves. And there was only reason for that look, as far as Sirius could think.

Albus must blame him for the death of the Potters.

"Albus-" The man turned from him, leading the group a short way down the hall and into an empty examination room. Security left Sirius at the door, remaining vigilant out in the hall. After the tectonic upheavals of the past night, no one was quite ready to drop their guard in these early morning hours.

"Albus…" he tried again once the door behind him had swung shut. Dumbledore, it seemed, had no intention of letting him.

"Sit down" the words were spat, deep and harsh, leaving no room for argument. Sirius sat. "That you would choose to come here, or even show your face at all after what you've done speaks more about your maligned character than even the incident with young Mister Snape years ago."

It was like a punch to the stomach. Dumbledore's readiness to assign to him the guilt of the murder of his best mate and godson was upsetting. But it was the fact that Dumbledore was admitting to him that he, Albus Dumbledore, should have known better after the incident with Moony and Snivellus half a decade ago, was even more telling. It seemed to the man that Sirius must have well and truly been destined to follow the path dictated by his lineage.

Before Sirius could speak, Albus struck with a confundus, a body bind, and a silencing spell in quick succession.

"I am here to tell you that there will be no reprieve for you. No chance to allow your family to influence the Wizengamot. I am using my privileges as Head Mugwump to sentence you to the high punishment that I can without outside council. 10 years minimum with the option of parole starting after the 10th year. Should you not be granted parole, you will serve 15 years. Most don't live half that long. I sincerely hope we do not see each other again Mister Black."

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A/N: This one took a bit longer, what with the holiday weekend here in the U.S and other places. I have also landed a new job, corporate and everything, and with it there have been a lot of changes. I had a very odd source of inspiration while doing this one, in the form of the _Ariana Grande_ song of the same name. It seems like an odd pairing for Sirius, but both the chapter and the song deal with betrayal so it just felt appropriate.

Anyways. Thank you all for reading. One of my favorite things (since there aren't many reviews to read...) is taking a look at where all of the different views are coming from. So thank you again if you are reading this out there in Asia, Africa, South America, Europe, or the Middle East... and Australia. There are quite a few of you and I really appreciate it. A special thanks once again to **Halariel** and **random-lemon** for the reviews. Hopefully there will be more people to thank next time. Once again this has only been edited for formatting purposes, nothing more in depth than that. I am hoping to get the next one out more quickly, though it will likely be shorter. Thanks for reading everyone.


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